


Kidnapped

by Acaranna



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Allydia Reversebang, Established Relationship, F/F, Kidnapping, Sciles-implied, canon AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-23 02:53:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3751777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acaranna/pseuds/Acaranna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia doesn't come home after visiting the library and Allison has a bad feeling about it. She's not wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kidnapped

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo, this is the second work for the Allydia Reversebang! It was so much fun to write! I have to thank two people for helping me. They made sure that it's readable: First, my dear [Emeraldawn](http://emeraldawn.tumblr.com) and then the darling [ CrazyParaKiss ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/crazyparakiss). They've been angels. Seriously. 
> 
> Adding to that, I have to thank [ileliberte](http://ileliberte.tumblr.com/) for creating the wonderful piece of art. It was truly inspiring. :-)

 

** **

 

 

It’s a stray ray of sunshine, through the gap in her curtains, that wakes Allison fifteen minutes before her alarm is supposed to go off at  nine am. She only knows that, because she squints at her clock automatically now. Whether she wakes in the middle of the night or at the dawn of the day. It’s ingrained in her body - _always make sure you know the time, it could be important_. Allison closes her eyes again and takes a deep breath. She raises her arms above her head and stretches as far as she can. It’s the kind of stretch that makes her toes point downwards and leaves her whole body tense. Keeping her muscles taut, Allison silently counts to ten before releasing the tension again. She enjoys the slight ache that usually follows.

One hand travels downward, to rub over her eyes in a futile attempt to clear the sleep from them, while she allows her other arm to fall onto the other side of the bed. Reaching for a soft warm body besides her. Her cool fingers usually causing her bed partner to grumble before cuddling close and wrapping thin but strong arms around Allison's middle. Something that never fails to make Allison smile.

However, her fingers only find empty, cold, sheets. Lydia must have gotten up a lot earlier. Again. It isn't really unusual, though, especially when they’re hunting down the latest nasty visitor to Beacon Hills or when they have to research for a ten page essay on the effects of consumerism and teenagers.

Still, something like a whine leaves her lips when she curls up and stares longingly at the empty side. It’s actually funny how quickly she got used to having Lydia in her bed, Allison muses, feeling butterflies in her stomach dance. Their whole relationship still feels so new and exciting, even though they’ve been dating for six months now.

Pulling Lydia’s pillow closer to her face, Allison inhales the flowery scent of her girlfriend’s perfume. It’s faint, but still there, and pulls up the memories of their first date. They were so nervous and unsure what was allowed and what was not. They’ve only dated guys before, after all. Yet, only ten minutes into their dinner the tension was lost, because Lydia couldn’t keep it together and burst into laughter, effectively making Allison laugh as well. They were so silly; it wasn’t like they didn’t know each other. After that, the conversation came so easily, that they almost forgot to eat. Lydia wore a lovely summer-dress in green that night, even though the weather had started to cool rather rapidly in the evenings. Both of them had been sure that their dinner wouldn’t last longer than maybe one or two hours, with everything being so awkward. In the end they had been kindly told to leave since the restaurant was about to close for the night. Their date had lasted for almost five hours.

The alarm goes off just when Allison wants to relive their first kiss. Taking Lydia’s pillow she swipes the offending thing from her bedside-table. Along with her book, her watch, her cell, and almost her lamp. The silence afterwards is a blessing. Allison contemplates giving in to temptation of curling up on Lydia’s side of the bed when her phone sounds a new message.

“Urgh, great,” she moans, “looks like someone doesn’t want me to enjoy a morning in bed.” She rolls around quickly and barely manages not to fall out of the bed. It’s close, really close, but thankfully nobody is around to take note of her acting like Stiles. How that boy manages to still be alive and healthy will always remain a mystery, Allison is sure of that. Or he simply has some very good guardian angels.

Allison pushes herself back a bit until she can slide her legs off the bed at a more secure angle, without prompting some kind of injury. Her phone landed close to her dresser so she gets up and out of bed. It feels a bit like her phone and her alarm clock have conspired against her. If that were possible.

Biting back a sigh she simply runs a hand through her hair, winces slightly when it catches on a knot and finally moves to stand up. The message can wait for a second longer, Allison figures, opening the curtains first. It’s sunny outside, and if someone could believe the weather forecast, it’s supposed to stay that way. Perfectly fine weather for a romantic picnic. If the other participant of said picnic is anywhere close.

“Well, maybe she’s just downstairs, ever thought of that?” Allison is aware that talking to herself might not be the best sign of sanity. But if she’s honest with herself, the life they lead right now, is anything but sane. She picks up her phone while kicking the broken alarm clock beneath the bed. Her father will not be happy about having to get another one this soon. The one before this one actually flew out of the window, more by accident than anything else.

The message is from Stiles, asking her whether or not she and Lydia want to join them for breakfast at the diner across from the police station. She grins. Stiles only has breakfast there when the Sheriff has a night shift, and tries to sneak in some greasy food before going home. On other days he allows Scott to spoil him. Their Alpha has decided that he needs to learn how to cook in order to provide for his pack, neverminding the fact that Derek told him more than once, that he doesn’t _have_ to know how to cook. If someone else knew how to make food that would be good enough.

Her answering message is short and to the point, though she puts a smile emote behind it. They will meet up with them but they’re going to need a bit more time. Well, Allison needs more time since she still has to shower and find Lydia. It is too possible that her girlfriend is already engrossed in one of her father’s books again and isn’t keeping track of time.

“First a shower though,” Allison says quietly.

*~*~*

Lydia isn’t downstairs.

When Allison comes down the usual aroma of coffee is missing from the kitchen. There is no note either and Lydia always leaves one when she has to go before Allison gets out of bed. Most of the time she even leaves her some breakfast and coffee. Nothing fancy that would be spoiled when it sits on the counter for too long. Simple things, like toast and a fruit-salad.

Walking over to the other side of the room, where the coffee-maker is located, Allison trails her hands over the surface of the countertops. She feels like she’s missing something important but she can’t put her finger on what it is. She does know that it leaves a heavy feeling in her stomach and raises the hair at the back of her neck.

“Morning Ally.”

The knife is in her hand before her brain catches up and identifies the voice as her father’s. Whose eyebrows are raised just like his hands.

“Ally?” he asks softly, making Allison sigh and drop the knife back onto the counter. What the hell is wrong with her today? She runs a hand over her face and tries to smile.

“Morning Dad, sorry about that,” she replies, before shaking her head and turning around to prepare their coffee.

“Did something happen, Allison? Did you have any nightmares? You seem to be on edge.” And he’s right, Allison knows that. She is on edge, but not because of nightmares

“Nothing happened and I slept fine,” she starts the coffee-maker before turning back around to lean against the counter. She knows that her Dad likes to sleep in just like her, even though he’s a very light sleeper and easily woken. Maybe he heard Lydia leave?

“Dad, did you hear Lydia leaving this morning?” she asks after a moment of hesitation. Her heart sinks when she takes in her Dad’s surprised expression.

“Was she supposed to be here last night?” he asks, coming over to her. “I’ve been looking through old files from the Sheriff until half past midnight. Since she didn’t come with you around eight, I thought she would have gone home to sleep. Maybe her mother called and actually asked her to come home. I mean, she’s been over here on most days so maybe she just wanted to see her daughter again?”

His explanation sounds reasonable though it does little to alleviate her fears. Something fearful has settled in her stomach and Allison is sure that it’s there for the long haul. Still she just sighs and gives her Dad a tired smile.

“You’re probably right, Dad,” she says, going into his arms easily when he pulls her in for a hug. “She just went home to show her family that we didn’t steal her.” The words sound cheerful enough and yet she knows that she hasn’t fooled her dad. Thankfully he doesn’t say anything to it and just lets her go in order to start making breakfast.

“Why don’t you give her a call?” he suggests, when Allison makes no move to help him. Her thoughts are still running in circles. Why hasn’t she come home? Nevermind the fact that she thinks of her bedroom as Lydia’s ‘home’. Why hasn’t she called by now? Maybe she should try and call Lydia.

“I’m going to give her a call,” she says, not waiting for an answer but dashing up to her room where she’s left her phone. Allison knows that her dad is watching her with worried eyes. He always does that, though he still trusts her when it comes to Lydia and Scott’s pack. What she doesn’t see is Chris grabbing his own phone to call the Sheriff to give him a heads up, just in case. Who knows what might have happened.

Up in her room Allison stops to take a couple of deep breaths trying to calm herself. Her heart races just like the thoughts in her head. Her hand shakes when she reaches for the phone. She speed-dials Lydia. Her feet move her through the room while she listens to the dial tone and waits. The longer it rings the more nervous she gets and her hand starts to shake even worse.

“This is Lydia. Obviously I’m busy, so please leave a message.”

The ice cold feeling in her stomach gets even worse when she only hears Lydia’s voicemail.

“Lydia? It’s Ally. Could you please call me and let me know you’re okay? I love you.” Allison ends the call and bites her bottom lip. Maybe she really is overreacting. She ignores her own phone most of the time as well or just doesn’t have the time to answer the call. Deciding that she will just have to wait for Lydia to call her back, Allison grabs her jacket and bag to join Stiles and Scott for breakfast. Maybe they can distract her enough to keep her from checking her phone every few seconds.

*~*~*

Stiles and Scott are already at the diner when Allison finally makes it there. They got a booth in the back of the room, from which they can keep an eye on the entrance without being easily seen. It makes her grin a bit because she wonders if they will actually see anything else considering they’re lost in each other. Her heart aches a bit because it once was her who would make Scott flush and grin with happiness.

“Seriously guys,” she says once she’s close enough to be heard without yelling. Stiles flails and almost falls from his seat. Only Scott’s reflexes save him from meeting the floor on a more personal level.

“Hey Ally,” he wheezes, cheeks flushed and eyes wide and happy. Scott just grins at her while her rights his boyfriend. She shakes her head and sinks into the seat across from them. Her hand still clutches her phone, hoping that Lydia will call soon. The worry comes back, dampening the happiness she feels whenever she’s around the boys. Or an of the pack, really.

They order their breakfast and while they wait Stiles tells her everything he found out about the harpies that have taken refuge in the preserve. So far they haven’t done anything but catch some _woodland creatures_. Stiles’ words, not hers. While the history and myths about harpies is interesting Allison can’t focus on it. She can barely focus on the food in front of her. The bad feeling doesn’t lessen; it still churns in her stomach.

Scott must have either seen something in her expression or picked something up in her scent because it isn’t long before he frowns. Stiles stops his explanation in favor of looking at her as well. Even now she wonders how quickly they pick up on each other’s feelings. Before they got together Stiles was known to sometimes talk without noticing the world around him and getting lost in his explanations.

“Ally?” Scott reaches out and gently takes her hand. The one that holds the phone. He pries it out of her aching fingers only to place it to the side before starting to massage her hand. Allison looks up. Her vision is slightly blurred.

“I think something’s wrong with Lydia,” she says, voice soft and slightly choked, feeling a bit guilty to see the happy expression leave the boys’ faces. They’re serious now; their attention on her and nothing else. She swallows and tries to calm herself down again.

“What do you mean?” Scott asks softly, never letting go of her hand. Stiles slides closer to him than he already is and adds his own hand to their little pile. A tension leaves her shoulders that she hasn’t been aware of until now. The feeling of not being alone sweeps through her and helps to clear her mind.

“I don’t really know. It’s just a feeling,” Allison admits before telling them what happened that morning. Or rather what _hadn’t_ happen, because she knows that Lydia had meant to come back to her. It’s clear again, the memory of Lydia promising her a lazy Sunday in bed. No getting up before noon and then relaxing with the pack. She doesn’t know why it hasn’t been clear before.

Stiles and Scott remain quiet while she talks, allowing her to get everything out. The dark feeling in her chest eases slightly but it doesn’t vanish and she knows that the only way for that to happen is to have Lydia back in her arms.

“You dad probably called mine already,” Stiles says, his voice all business, while he pulls his phone from his jacket, “because he should have been in the diner twenty minutes ago. Knowing them, they are probably going to Lydia’s house for a quick check-up to see if she really hasn’t gone home.”

It is actually a blessing, Allison thinks, that the Sheriff is finally in on the secrets around his town. Not only does it make cleaning up much easier for them to deal with; it also gives them access to the police files and so far, many of them had supernatural causes or delinquents. Not that the Sheriff will be able to arrest them, but at least there is some kind of closure to the case.

Allison doesn’t even want to think about the poor families who had to bury their loved ones without an explanation. She doesn’t even acknowledge the possibility of never seeing Lydia again.

“Come, Ally,” Scott’s voice pulls her back to the diner. Stiles is already standing at the counter to pay for their breakfast. She’s barely touched hers but she can’t really feel guilty about that now. Her body moves on it’s own when she grabs her phone and puts it into her pocket. Then she slips out of the booth while listening to Scott’s voice.

“We’re going to the library first, to see if we can catch the remains of her scent and follow it from there,” he says and Allison is glad that he is making the decisions now. She knows that she should be cool and collected in a situation like this. She isn’t a Hunter for nothing; but it’s hard not to panic. She loves Lydia and just the thought of her getting hurt makes her heart race in fear.

“Okay, Dad, I’ll let her know and you’ll call when you see her, but not a word to anyone else. At least not now.” Stiles doesn’t have to say it. Allison knows that Lydia hasn’t been home just by looking at his face.

“Dad will keep his eyes open and call us when he sees her or knows something,” he says, slipping his phone back into his hoodie. Scott nods once and puts a warm hand on her shoulder. Allison gives him a weak smile.

“We’re going to find her, Ally,” he says and she can see a hint of red in his eyes.

*~*~*

The library feels unnaturally quiet to Allison even though the old librarian is slowly typing away on her ancient computer. She wonders for a second whether it’s as old as she is but quickly discards the thought. Her mind tries to distract her from worrying and usually she’s thankful for it because it keeps her more focused. In this moment, though, she doesn’t want to be distracted.

Scott leads them through the rows and rows of bookshelves, discreetly sniffing the stale air in order to catch Lydia’s scent. His steps are quick and confident, a sure sign that he has a trail. Allison recognizes the section they're heading towards and she shivers. This part of the library contains the mythology section, along with a couple of books that seem like fantasy spellbooks but are in fact very real.

She knows that Deaton, along with Stiles and Lydia, placed a ban on this part to keep innocent people from accidentally summoning a demon. Once had been enough for all of them.

The three of them round a corner only to stop dead in their tracks. The table before them is covered in books, pages and Lydia’s laptop. Her cardigan hangs over the back of the chair and her bag sits innocently next to it. It looks so normal, that for a moment Allison expects her girlfriend to show up with yet another book in her arms. She can only imagine how Lydia would raise her eyebrow in a silent question of ‘what are you doing here?’.

Scott moves closer to the table and inhales the air around it. He frowns slightly.

“What is it?” Allison asks cautiously. She doesn’t really want to know what’s wrong. Stiles is quiet besides her, his gaze focused on the books. The combination doesn’t make much sense to her at all. Books about herbs and stones, historical texts and something that looks like an ancient Latin medical journal.

“Someone was here with her,” Scott says softly, “someone she didn’t know. She was agitated, angry and a bit scared.”

A cold shiver runs over Allison’s back and she barely suppresses the shudder that wants to run through her body.

“Can you trace where she went from here?” Stiles asks, putting a steadying hand on her back. Allison closes her eyes for a second and tries to push the fear down. She has to be strong in order to find Lydia. When she opens them again, Scott turns towards the end of the shelf. He starts to walk closer and only Stiles’ hand keeps her from rushing after him.

“The scent of fear gets stronger here,” Scott whispers, motioning them to follow him. Stiles passes her and tries to give her a smile. He fails at it, though, and shakes his head slightly before rushing after his boyfriend. Allison swallows and does the same, only to stop at the chair. Her hand grabs the cardigan as if it has a mind of it’s own.

They follow the trail through even older rows of bookshelves until they reach a door.

Allison looks around this part of the library while Scott and Stiles scan the area directly in front of the door. The place looks like it’s been forgotten for a long time. Dust has settled everywhere in a thick blanket. Only the spot directly in front of the door is clear of that layer. Someone has used this door either to get into the library or out of it. Given the situation and what they have found so far, Allison is sure that it is both. She swallows against the dry air while her hands clutch the cardigan in front of her like a shield.

“They went out this way,” Scott murmurs, leaning closer to the door. He’s listening for any kind of noise that might be telling them whether or not someone is waiting outside. He leans back and nods over to Stiles. It is entirely possible that the doorknob has been covered in wolfsbane in order to keep werewolves from using it. Thankfully though, it’s nothing they haven’t seen before. Quite a few of their enemies have tried this tactic in the past. They all seemed to have forgotten that the pack consisted of more than just wolves.

The door opens noiselessly when Stiles turns the knob. It swings back just as easily and not at all like a door that hasn’t been used in years. Allison knows what that means. She follows the boys through the door and out into the open again. Well, as open as an alley could be. They are behind the library now. The gap between the two houses is small, barely wide enough for two people to walk next to each other.

“Someone’s been planning this,” she whispers, voice thick with both fear and fury. Someone has been planning the abduction of her girlfriend and then taken her from the one spot in Beacon Hills that is supposed to be safe. She shivers again. Her mind provides her with all kinds of images. She sees Lydia, scared and bound, lying somewhere in the dark. Or she’s strung up against a tree. Or she’s already ...

“Can you follow her scent?” Stiles asks, effectively pulling  Allison from the steadily growing darker path of her thoughts. Her eyes prickle with tears that want to fall, from fear, from sadness, from hopelessness. Yet she blinks and forces them back. She has to stay strong. _Lydia is still alive and we will find her._

Scott is already walking down the towards the entrance of the alley. It feels a bit like the light at the end of the tunnel. And maybe it is. Allison hopes that it is. That Scott, once they’re back on the street, will be able to say in which direction Lydia was taken. It is a nice thought and yet Allison knows that it will not be that easy. Whoever took Lydia, has been thorough. The chances of finding her quickly are pretty low at the moment. Still, hope is the last thing to die.

*~*~*

There hasn’t been a trail to follow. Nothing that indicated in which direction they had taken Lydia and Allison isn’t  sure what sound has been louder. Scott angry growl, when they reached their base of operation again, or her shattering heart. Her body’s slumped into the next available chair, her eyes have started to prickle harder.

She has no idea how long she’s been sitting there. Maybe an hour, maybe just a few minutes. Her mind is overrun with images and scenarios; one darker than the other. She can hear Lydia screaming in her mind. She sees her eyes, wide with fear or dull and lifeless.

“Ally?” There is a hand on her shoulder. It’s so sudden that Allison can barely suppress the reflex that is ingrained in her whole being. She stops, though, before she can break Stiles’ wrist. Her eyes burn from the tears but she doesn’t close them again. That way she can pretend that those dark thoughts don’t exist.

“I’m okay,” she croaks. Clearing her throat she wants to repeat the words but Stiles shakes his head.

“No, you’re not,” he says, not even trying to bring a smile onto her face. He knows how she feels.

“You’re right,” she sighs, feeling tired all of a sudden. “But I have to be, if we’re going to go looking for Lydia.” Stiles nods but she knows he’s not really agreeing with her. They had a similar conversation once, with their roles reversed.

“Scott called the pack,” her friend says, crouching down in front of her chair so she doesn’t have to look up at him. “They’re going to see if they can catch her scent somewhere around the town, before they’ll come here. In the meantime, I’m going to try a locator spell on her. Do you have something that belongs to Lydia? Besides your heart, I mean.” It’s a weak attempt at humor but Allison is glad for it anyway. Stiles always tries to stay positive, even if the situation seems dire. At least, he tries to pretend to be positive.

“Her cardigan,” she whispers and her fingers ache when they let go of the fabric. Her body moves on it’s own, following the one piece of Lydia she has right now. Stiles holds it gently, as if it could turn into dust at a moments notice.

“We’re going to find her, Ally,” he says softly, repeating the words Scott had already said, and she can see the determination in his eyes. “We’re going to find her and we’ll make her kidnappers pay.” She knows that they will. She has done the same for them, once.

*~*~*

It’s one hour later when Stiles allows himself to fall onto his back. He’s breathing hard, as if he’s run a marathon. His face is covered in a sheen of sweat, either from the heat of the candles or the concentration. Allison wants to go to him, to help him up, to demand what he found, to do _anything._ Yet she stays rooted to the side of the circle, with Scott at her side. They have to wait.

“I have no idea how they’re doing it,” Stiles huffs eventually. Allison’s heart sinks. He couldn’t find her. “They either know how to cover their tracks or they have someone with magic at their disposal.” His voice is annoyed but not resigned. So maybe there is a little hope? She doesn’t dare think about it.

“What have you found?” Scott asks the question she doesn’t-can’t-bring herself to ask. She’s afraid of the answer but she knows that it’s vital to explore every option they have.

“Well, I found a spot where she _might have been,_ ”Stiles replies, pushing himself back up. “As in, I don’t get a clear sign on whether she was there or not. Something is messing with the signal I’m getting. It’s not strong enough to block us out completely but it could also be wrong trail. Something that’s supposed to send us running into the wrong direction.”

It’s not the answer Allison would have liked to hear but at least it’s something.

“Well, at least we have something to start with,” she says, trying to keep the dark thoughts out that threaten to take over again. She has to stay strong for Lydia. There is no use in despairing already when they have a chance, even if it’s a small one, at finding her. “We should check that point out. If only to rule out the option of a false trail. Maybe they passed through there and Lydia managed to leave something of hers there. Something we’re supposed to find.”

“Like the bread crumbs in Hansel and Gretel,” Scott nods. “It’s an option. I’m going to let the pack know. We’re going to split into two groups. One of them will stay here and keep looking for possible trails around the town and also to step in if something else comes up. The others will go looking for Lydia.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Stiles nods, while he starts collecting the materials. “We should take Derek with us though. As good as you wolves are, he’s still more experienced when it comes to scents. Maybe his nose catches something that the others might have missed.” Scott seems to think about it for a second and Allison is once again happy that she isn’t alone in this. That she has a pack at her back. A pack that care for each member, human or not.

“Don’t worry, Ally,” Stiles says again, once Scott has left the room. “We’re going to find our Banshee and we’re going to bring her back.” There’s so much conviction in his voice that her chest feels tighter for a second. After two deep breaths she can finally nod her head.

“You’re right,” she says. “We’re going to get her back.”

*~*~*

The trail, Stiles has found, leads them out of town and quite a distance away. The drive there feels like an eternity to Allison, who has claimed shotgun in the Jeep. Scott sits behind them, while Derek and Isaac follow in the Camaro. The rest of the pack is going to guard the town while the Sheriff and her father help them. Still, Stiles’ dad demanded that he’s getting called first, should the kidnappers turn out to be human. He’s a man of the law even though he turns a blind eye to many things going on. Those, though, are usually of a supernatural variety.

“I hope that this isn’t a false trail,” Scott growls softly and Ally watches the way Stiles’ eyes fly to the rearview mirror. His expression is solemn, his eyes don’t hide the worry, and Allison is once again struck with how tightly knit their group actually is. Even if she and Lydia weren’t girlfriends or in love or something else, they would do anything to get her back.

“I hope so, too,” she finds herself saying, her hands tighten around the smaller, but deadlier crossbow her mom had given to her on her birthday last year. She’s never used it, but today she might have to and it scares her. Killing is often necessary in their line of work, but the whole pack knows that they will never get used to it. That they will be better off still getting sick after having to end a life. It’s easier when their enemy isn’t human looking. Or even just sentient. Then they can hide their sorrow behind that, wrong as it might be.

“We’ll find her,” Stiles says into the silence that hangs heavy inside the car, after Scott’s and her words. “We always find each other and we always save each other. We might be getting a bit banged up when we do, but that’s nothing new, is it? That’s just how we roll and it won’t change. Not now, not ever.” There’s determination in his voice and barely covered fury. Allison allows it to wash over her and hopes that it will soothe her nerves a little. She has to be strong if she wants to be any kind of help.

Stiles slows the car down when they get closer to the spot he had found through the locator spell. It’s an old parking lot, which is still in use from people, who want to take a hike through the woods, or families, who need a rest when passing through the area. There are barely any cars there at this time of the week. Only three cars are parked on the far side of the lot. Stiles turns off the Jeep, but doesn’t get out of the car. Instead he stares at the three other occupants.

“What is it, Stiles? Your heart is racing.” Scott’s worried and leans forward until he can peer through the windshield. “Do you know one of the cars?” Allison barely allows herself to breathe.

“I don’t know them,” he says, but she can hear his tone trembling. Her grip tightens a bit more around the cross-bow. “But one of the cars, the red one on the left, tailed me a couple of times when I left the library or came out from the supermarket. It never came too close, though. Always stayed a bit back. It’s definitely the same one though.”

“So they’ve been following you around, to figure out your daily schedule and to see when and where you’re alone. Either to capture you or to see whether or not they could eliminate you,” Allison says, finally feeling a bit of the calmness her father talked about when he explained his experiences with hunting. “Then they probably tailed Lydia as well. It could be that they were trying to find out the weakest link in the pack.”

Stiles snorts beside her and Scott grins dangerously.

“Then they have caught the wrong girl,” he says, which makes Allison grin as well. He’s right, though. Lydia might look like a girl that’s only interested in fashion and boys but she has a spine made of steel and a heart of gold. They will have a hard time breaking her. “And we caught on pretty quickly. I don’t want to imagine what could have happened if she wasn’t supposed to come over after the library.”

For a moment it looks like Stiles wants to say something, but Scott’s head perks up and he looks over to the side. The Camaro is parked a little away from them and both wolves seem to be waiting.

“Derek wants to know whether or not we’re going to get out of the car,” he tells them.

“Let’s go then,” Allison says, hoping, that whoever has kidnapped Lydia, hasn’t done anything to her yet. That they can still get her out with body and mind intact. She doesn’t allow herself to think of any other possibility.

*~*~*

“Her scent’s faint over here,” Derek points to the parked cars, “but it gets stronger towards the treeline.” Scott nods once, his eyes glow red. The two of them have come a long way to accepting their role-reversal. They still rub each other the wrong way every once in a while but so far there haven’t been any casualties. She hopes that it stays that way.

“She’s been terrified,” Scott adds. Allison knows that he can name that one easily. It’s the one major scent that permits the air, whenever humans are in immediate danger. Well, a danger they can actually identify, most of the time. “But something must have happened that uncovered her scent in this place. Maybe it was something in the cars. We lost her scent on the street after we came out of the alley.”

Allison follows Stiles, when he takes another tour across the parking lot. From the cars to the treeline and back. Her crossbow is ready for action and she finally finds the calmness that she’s been trained to have as a huntress. Her thoughts focus on the hunt now and not on the possible outcome. As much as she would like to keep thinking about Lydia, Allison knows that it would be detrimental to their situation.

“Guys,” Stiles says, crouching down at one of the cars. It’s an old station wagon, that had certainly seen better days. “I could use some of that wolfy strength right now. I need to see beneath the car. If you could lift it up a bit that would be highly appreciated.” Allison turns her gaze towards the treeline and the street. She can’t do much when it comes to lifting cars, so she keeps watch. But everything is calm and quiet. Except for Stiles muttering behind her. The birds sing in the trees, which is quite telling. There is no real threat lurking in the bushes.

“I knew it! The fucking bastards have runes on their cars. I can’t say what the runes do exactly but given the circumstances I’m sure they’re meant to cover up at least the scent of a person. Given that we live in good old Beacon Hills, they’re probably doing more than just that.”

The noise of the car being let down sounds unnaturally loud to her ears and the birds around them fall silent for a moment. Then the songs start up again. It could be a beautiful situation.  

“Then the kidnappers must be carrying those runes on themselves as well,” Isaac huffs from the front of the car. “Because other than Lydia’s scent, there is nothing here and even hers vanishes when we hit the forest.”

“Amulets.” The word is out of her mouth before her head manages to catch up. “They’re wearing amulets to hide their scent. Dad told me that some hunters use them to have an easier way with their prey.” She shudders at the thought. “I think Gerard did something like that as well, back before I was born.”

Her grandfather’s name slips easily from her lips and Allison wonders when she stopped seeing him as a part of her family. Thinking of him doesn’t spark anything other than anger and disgust in her chest now.

“So either they forgot to put one on Lydia before they left the car,” Scott concludes, a growl audible in his voice. “Or she managed to throw it off at least once. I can’t imagine that they didn’t subdue her after that.” He looks actually sorry when he says that, like a red-eyed puppy and not the Alpha of a pack. Allison can’t help but shake her head.

“We need a plan, because as much as I want to save Lydia, we can’t rush head first into the forest.”Stiles is right, of course. They have no idea how far away the kidnappers are. Or if they’re still around the area at all.

“I think, we should follow the scent for as long as we can,” her grip tightens around the crossbow until her knuckles turn white. “Maybe they were dumb enough to leave a visible trail for us to follow. And even if they didn’t, it’s practically impossible to drag or carry someone through a forest without leaving at least a few traces.”

The others look at her and Allison isn’t sure why. She just said what needed to be said.

“You could be a great leader, Ally,” Stiles says, from where he’s swinging his baseball bat next to Scott. When did he get that out of the car? She doesn’t know; but what she does know is that somewhere under his baggy shirt Stiles is hiding his father’s spare gun.

“Let’s get going,” she replies because what else could she say?

Forcing her fear down as far as she can Allison starts to walk towards the treeline. Scott falls into step on her right side while Stiles walks to her left. It’s settles some of the unsure feeling inside of her chest. She has backup and she knows that they would all die for each other.

She only hopes that it won’t come to that.

*~*~*

The scream echoes through the forest and sends a cascade of birds flying into the sky.

“That’s Lydia!” Stiles exclaims and a shiver of anticipation runs down Allison’s spine. She hasn’t had much hope that they would find the right way this quickly; but then again, she shouldn’t have underestimated Lydia. Her girlfriend would always find a way to get them to notice her. It had been Lydia, who said that keeping in touch with each other every day would be beneficial. That way there would always at least one person who wondered about why there wasn’t a message coming.

And that was actually before they started dating.

“Let your dad know where we are and that we probably found Lydia,” Scott orders, not saying who’s father he means, because both Allison and Stiles get their phones out, to send off some messages with the coordinates. Drawn-out calls and explanations would take too long. Time is important and they don’t have much of it.

“The scream came from straight ahead, so we should probably not go straight that way,” Stiles says, when they start to move again. So far they still have to follow the path.

“You’re right, we should either try to get all the way around or flank them from both sides. We don’t know for sure whether or not they’re expecting us to come already, so the element of surprise could give us an advantage. Unfortunately we can’t say just yet how many people there are, so splitting up can be either good or bad,” Allison says, while they make their way through the forest. They’re walking slower now. Quieter and even more focused than before.

“Let’s get a bit closer, maybe we can hear their heartbeats if we can’t scent them,” Isaac says from where he’s walking next to Derek, who’s been surprisingly quiet. It could be a sign that he has accepted Allison’s leading so far. It might also be a sign of him not trusting them and just waiting for the bad luck that seems to follow him around.

“I’m not sure whether or not we’ll be able to hear their heartbeats,” Derek muses, after they’ve walked for another five minutes. There hasn’t been a second scream so far, which is not at all surprising. “They know that we can scent them, so they probably know that we can hear them as well.”

“Probably,” Stiles nods. “So we have to be extra careful.”

They continue to walk through the forest, following the obvious path in front of them. Whoever captured Lydia couldn’t be that smart, Allison knows that. But the runes are from someone with knowledge, so maybe their leader knows what’s going on and with whom he’s dealing. The thought alone makes her feel nauseous. There aren’t that many people who have enough experiences with their pack as a whole.

Whoever it is, though, Allison is ready to teach them a lesson. Nobody takes her girlfriend without paying the price for it. She’s still scared of what they may find, but she’s not alone in this. She’s got the pack, her friends and family, behind her. They all came a long way until they reached this point.

*~*~*

It’s Isaac who sees the old hut first.

“There,” his finger points through a gap in the trees and all of them slow down even more. They have to be even more careful now. A breaking twig could alert whoever it is that has Lydia. It’s a tight fitting but the five of them manage to huddle into the shadows while still being able to see what is going on on the clearing.

It is indeed only a one story hut with an old barn behind it. The roof of the house has come down at some point. Windows are broken and the walls look ready to drop as well.

“I don’t think, they’re holding Lydia in that house,” Stiles puts her thoughts into words without even knowing it. “It’s not even guarded but the entrance to the barn looks like Fort Knox.”

He’s right. In front of the huge barn door stand five men. Their weapons aren’t raised, though, and it looks quite like they’re not really expecting anyone to show up. One of them smokes, two others kick something back and forth between each other. Probably a stone. Only the last to seems to be on guard. Their heads turn from one side to the other, as if they’re checking their surroundings.

“They don’t look like professionals,” Scott muses, his gaze focused on the men. “Though it could be a ploy.” Derek and Isaac growl quietly beside Allison. Neither of them have as close a relationship with Lydia as Stiles and she have, but they see her as a part of the pack. A part of the family and they won’t stop until their Banshee is back with them.

“Okay, so what do we do now? We don’t know whether or not there are others at the back of the barn as well,” Isaac grumbles, but Derek is already moving.

“I’m going to walk around and see what the situation is back there,” he explains. “I’m faster and more quiet alone. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He doesn’t give them time to actually react to this before he’s vanished in the shadows of the trees.

Allison doesn’t really like waiting, but it’s the only thing they can do for now. Time seems to crawl when all you need is for it to move faster. Her fingers ache around the crossbow she’s holding. Next to her Stiles is having a hard time standing still himself. His foot is tapping, really quiet, onto the ground and his fingers fiddle with his phone. She is glad that they’re not fiddling with the gun.

It can only have been five minutes, though it felt so much longer to her, before Derek comes back. He appears out of the shadows, his eyes glowing bright blue.

“The back is completely boarded up, including the window at the top,” he huffs, annoyed. “So that leaves only the main door as an entrance. Which makes it all the more dangerous because they’re probably expecting us.”

“Fuck.” Allison shares Scott’s sentiment and from the looks of it, so do the others. “We need to figure out how to get in there, though I think there will be other guards in there as well. Maybe even more than outside. Could you pick anything up back there?” He looks over to Derek, who shakes his head.

“No,” the word is more of a growl than an answer, “whatever runes they're using, they’re blocking is quite effective.”

Stiles is unusually quiet next to them and Allison wonders what’s going on in his head. Knowing him, it’s probably some kind of plan that seems completely idiotic and dangerous but will work out in the end.

“What are you thinking about, Stiles?” Her words seem to pull him from wherever his mind has gone. He blinks twice and there is something dangerous in his eyes. It reminds her, yet again, that Stiles isn’t just the goofy teenager anymore. He’s their Emissary, even if he’s still in training.

“We could smoke them out,” he says, holding up his hand to stave off the oncoming protests. “I said ‘smoke them out’ not burn them down.” His hands fiddle with something in his hoodie. “I grabbed some of the smoke bombs, we use for distractions. I could combine them and maybe add some of the leaves to create a thicker smoke. I don’t know if there’s a hole or something in the wood at the other side of the barn.” He looks over to Derek, who shakes his head.

“Damn, then maybe there is one in one of the sides,” he tries to adjust his plan, “where we could push the bomb into the barn. Once the smoke chases them out, one of us could go in to get Lydia, while the rest of us takes care of the guards.”

It’s actually not even a bad plan, Allison can admit that. It seems simple but still like it could work.

“We still don’t know how many are in there,” Isaac points out. “They could outnumber us easily and still overwhelm us.” It’s true, she knows that. If they really know who they kidnapped it is entirely possible that the men are armed with Wolfsbane.

“Then I have no idea what we could do,” Stiles’ sighs and Allison isn’t sure whether or not she should try to cheer him up.

It’s a message from her father that sparks off her idea.

*~*~*

Everything goes surprisingly quickly in the end.

Her father and the Sheriff, along with about fifteen policemen, turn up in time to see a group of scared men run out of the smoking barn. It really looks like the building in on fire, when it’s only been about three of the smoke bombs Stiles has made.

It actually feels pretty anticlimactic.

Yet Lydia still isn’t out of the woods yet. They all know it, because the men who are handcuffed now, are only the small fish. Their boss is still inside the barn. With Lydia. It feels like a leaded weight settled in her stomach when Allison slowly walks over to the open barn door. The smoke has cleared a bit already, due to it only being meant for distraction and not more.

The room is only dimly lit but Allison has enough light to see Lydia. She’s bound to one of the support beams that hold up the roof and her mouth is covered with duct tape. Lydia’s head turns towards her and Allison feels her shoulders relax. Her gaze only travels to the side when Lydia’s does and she freezes.

“Allison.” Gerard sits there, in a wheelchair. He looks older than she knows he is. Older and much sicker. She remembers the blackness that bled from him after he found out that Scott changed his pills and forced Derek to bite him. She’s not sure whether or not Derek will ever forgive Scott for doing that.

“I always knew you were a clever girl,” her grandfather’s, no _Gerard’s_ words pull her back. He hasn’t been her grandfather for a long time now. “Unfortunately not clever enough to stay away from the monsters.” His face shows disgust when she feels the others come up behind her. The pain, she used to feel when thinking about losing a part of her family, doesn’t come. He’s not a part of her family anymore.

“Our definition of the word _monster_ differs greatly, Gerard,” Allison replies, her voice steadier than she has hoped it would be. “Right now I only see one monster in here.” His expression darkens.

“Then these vile creatures have twisted your mind and good senses beyond repair,” Gerard sneers, when there is a loud growl behind her. Allison smiles knowingly.

“Have they?” she slowly starts to walk towards Lydia, her eyes never leaving the man’s face. She doesn’t feel sad about how it all turned out. How could she if the man, who was supposed to be her grandfather, betrayed everything he taught her, just for his own gain?

_“We protect those, who cannot protect themselves,”_ she recites, when she reaches Lydia. “That has been out code for as long as our history goes back and nowhere in these words is it defined who needs to be protected. So, a monster can also be a human being and the ones that need protection can be supernatural.”

The rest of what she wants to say, dies on her tongue when the Sheriff comes in, followed by two of his deputies. He looks at her, then at Lydia and nods. He knows that they will take care of each other. So far, they always have.

Her finger shake slightly, when she peels the tape back.

“What took you so long?” Lydia smiles, tiredly. “I’ve been waiting for you.” The rest of what she might have wanted to say, is lost when Allison pulls her into a short but sweet kiss.

“Don’t you ever scare me like that again, Lydia Martin, never again,” she breathes, tears of joy running down her cheeks. Her hands trail down to undo the knots that keep the ropes tied.

“You know, I can’t promise,” her girlfriend’s honesty should scare her, but for now Allison decides to chase that fear away with a laugh.

**Author's Note:**

> As always: Comments are the Muse's food, so please, feed them either here or [here!](http://acaranna.tumblr.com/ask) Thank you!


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